Goodbye Chuck

WARNING, This story contains drug use and violence.

Jack uses the forklift to carry a rolled up cube that had been a ‘69 Camaro into the tear down shop, “Yo Davy, the VIN says it’s a ZL1 COPO 9650 engine, let’s peel it open and see if it’s survived."

“Wait, what? An aluminum 427 big block? Hell yeah, and I bet you have ideas for this one don’t you?”

Jack grins, “The Z with the pistons hanging out of the block needs a mill, if it’s intact this one will work, on top of that we still have that Tripower intake from that ‘Vette.”

Davy grins back, “Fuck me Jack, this thing is going to fly. If I didn’t just buy that Hurst 442, I might even want it.”

Jack replies with a chuckle, “You could always sell the 442?”

“Get out of my shop before I cut your dick off, that ain’t happening.”

Laughing his ass off Jack heads to the engine shop, “Yo Kris, I have something special for you to play with.”

Kris gives him a lewd grin, “Mal is special enough, but if you’re talking engines I’m all ears, what do you have?”

“Oh not much, just a ZL1 if the VIN is right. But we all know GM specials, like that two barrel 350HO that came out of my ‘Bird.”

Kris laughs, “Right? What is this one for?”

“There’s a Z with rods through the block. Where is that ‘Vette intake?”

“Are you talking about the Tripower? The only part of the engine that wasn’t garbage?”

“You know it Trixie.”

“Oh shit Speed Racer, this is going to be a crazy build for sure.”

Jack laughs maniacally, “Crazy is my middle name.”

“That’s right, insane in the membrane. Davy is going to piss himself, the Hurst block is blueprinted, back and ready to assemble, everything is perfect.”

“Ooh, who’s building it, you or him?”

“He can help, Sharon can observe.”

“Good deal, I’ll let him know.”

Back in the tear down shop Jack sits on the truck bench seat to watch Davy train Sharon on how to use the chop saw to cut through the sheet metal. Sparks fly as she tears into the sheet metal. When the fender hits the ground she shuts down the saw.

Jack yells out, “Bad news Davy, your block has cracks in three cylinders, and the number four cam bearing boss is busted.”

Davy hurls the fender into the scrap bin, “FUCK! Of all the stinkin’ luck, I get a numbers matching block that’s fucked! Life ain’t fair!”

Sharon looks shocked at Davy’s reaction, “Is numbers matching that important?”

Davy sits on a bucket, “For a common car like my 442 not really, but Hurst built just over 900 of these for 1969, I have been looking for one since I got my license.”

Jack shakes his head, “Sorry Davy, I was fucking with you, Kris says the block is perfect, and you can help her build it if you want.”

Davy glares at Jack, “If your back wasn’t fucked up I would beat your ass Jack.”

Sharon gets between them, “You would have to get through me first Davy.”

Davy looks way up at her, “Oh hell no! No offense Sharon, but the thought of you mad at me scares the fuck out of me.”

Sharon pouts, “Sorry Davy, it’s not my fault I’m built like this.”

Davy gets up, “Don’t sweat it, you’re one of us, and I trust you, but Jack there, he’s special, short bus special. He’s still one of us though, so I cut him slack. Jack, you’re in charge of Sharon, I’ll be back.”

Jack checks the sheet metal, takes a paint marker, and draws two lines across the sub-frame, and the exhaust pipes. The sub-frame is already hooked to a stout chain hanging from the forklift, “Get the other fender off, then cut across these two lines, after that we’ll see where we are.”

Sharon nods, “You got it lover boy.”

Firing up the saw Sharon makes spark again. When the fender falls she kicks it aside and attacks the sub-frame. The Camaro rocks on the chain as she finishes the bottom cuts. Backing off, she sets the saw down to consult with Jack.

Jack pushes at the Camaro and it rocks alarmingly, “Go get the yard buggy, I have an idea.” With the buggy in the shop he puts a sling on the rear axle, connects it to the crane, and slowly takes up the slack.

“Watch my hand signals, as I lower the forks, raise the crane, we should be able to flip this bitch to a safer position.”

Sharon nods as she mans the winch, while he lowers the forks, he motions for her to raise the rear. The car slowly rolls over to where the engine is at the top. They lower the car to the ground, before Jack swaps the forklift for the buggy.

With the slack taken up Sharon resumes cutting the sub-frame. With the cuts finished Jack lifts the car with the winch again. Marking the trans cross member he nods for Sharon to resume cutting. The car drops back to the ground.

Raising the winch again, the drive shaft is holding the engine to the car. With the drive shaft cut the wiring harness, and various hoses are all that’s holding the engine down.

Raising the engine another three feet with the winch Jack grins at Sharon, “This part calls for some finesse, watch the master at work.”

Sharon pouts, “Be careful, don’t hurt yourself again.”

Plugging in the Sawzall Jack replies, “First off, I didn’t hurt myself, that asshole Chuck did, and secondly, this is fun. Get ready with the winch and watch my hand signals.”

Jack motions for Sharon to raise the Camaro a bit higher before he uses the saw to start “disconnecting” wires, and hoses. The car drops with each cut he makes until the engine and transmission are completely free. Staring at the remains Jack gets a feeling about it.

“Sharon, I have a project for you, search the trunk, and the interior, let me know what you find.”

She gawks at Jack, “How am I supposed to search this mess?”

With a grin he points at the chop saw with the Sawzall, “Open it up, it might take an hour or so, do not cut into the fuel tank though, we don’t need an explosion.”

Setting the engine on a tire Jack uses the shop crane to flip it upright. While Sharon cuts the car apart Jack uses Davy’s tools to get all the accessories off of the engine, saving anything not totally destroyed. Kris and Davy walk into the tear-down shop as Jack is setting the engine in the Hilux.

Kris yells at Jack, “What the fuck are you doing? You are supposed to be taking it easy.”

Jack grins and points at the engine, “We have an all aluminum 427 Trixie! Let’s get it torn down and to the machine shop.”

“Goddammit Jack, you are more important than any engine, it could have waited.”

“I am so tired of not being able to do anything, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Where do you want it?”

Kris shakes her head, “I want it right there in that truck, and I want your ass sitting down.”

“Fine, I’ll sit down.”

Kris notices Jack wince as he sits back on the truck seat, “YOU ARE NOT FINE, QUIT BEING STUBBORN!”

“Me stubborn? Nope, not at all. Can you hand me a beer?”

Davy pulls a Miller High Life from the fridge, “Here ya go bonehead.”

Jack gives the beer a dirty look, “I asked for a beer, not water.”

Sharon sets the saw down, “Calm down, everybody calm down, Jack I’ll get your damned beer.”

While Sharon runs to the barn Kris sits next to Jack, “Look bonehead, I know you’re getting antsy, but you need to heal, or you won’t be able to drive a top fuel dragster without destroying your back. Imagine being crippled and unable to ride a bike before you turn thirty. That’s not what you need.”

Jack sighs, “It’s been a week, this is driving me crazy. I just want to kill that asshole Chuck.”

“Jack, listen to me carefully, you are not allowed to kill him, yeah I know he hurt you, but he’s not worth life in Chino.”

Jack growls, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, this still sucks though. I just want to get shit done, not be treated like a baby.”

Sharon hands Jack a Henry’s and his pain killers, “You are not being treated like a baby, you sure are acting like one though.”

Jack takes a pain killer with his beer and sighs, “You too Sharon? Not being able to do anything is killing me.”

Kris throws an arm around him, “It’s only for a few weeks, but if you don’t take it easy now, it might end up being for life, then what?”

Jack lets out a loud sigh, “I don’t know. It’s late, we should call it a night.”

Kris looks at Jack, “Get some rest, and no more working on shit until your doc signs off, got it?”

Jack mumbles, “Fine.”

Sharon helps Jack back to the barn and settles him on the couch, “Behave, I’ll be here in the morning with food, do you have your lessons finished so I can drop them off at school?”

Jack laughs, “You may as well trash them all except math. I got bored and worked the problems last night.”

Sharon shakes her head, “Are you trying to fail?”

“Nope, school just bores me. I have a steady job here at the junkyard already, and I have my racing for extra money.”

“Dammit Jack, you should at least try.”

“You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”

After everyone leaves and Kris locks the gate Jack pockets his Jennings pistol, and snorts a bump of coke, before taking his motorcycle through the street door to go find a car for tonight’s run to Pomona. Spotting a black and yellow Camaro following him, he takes off, ditching Chuck in the maze of residential streets.

Spotting a Nova with a Harwood scoop he smiles as he pulls the bike around the corner, parking it on the street near a bar. The Nova is unlocked, so he slips behind the wheel to try his collection of GM keys. The fourth try starts the car.

At Sal’s Paint and Body Shop Herb sets the suitcase on the passenger seat, “Good luck kid, how’s the back?”

Jack grimaces, “It hurts, but I’ll live. See you on the flip side.”

Herb pats the roof of the car, “See ya!”

As he turns the corner he sees Chuck’s bumblebee of a Camaro again. Shaking his head he cruises to Azusa, leading his nemesis up the winding roads towards Burro Canyon. Turning onto a dirt road with a no trespassing sign he kills the lights, goes around a curve, and blocks the road.

Chuck sees the Nova in the way, hits the brakes hard, and slides towards a ravine.

Jack pulls his pistol as he walks up to the Camaro, and as Chuck opens the door, he kicks it shut, “I have something for you Chuckles, but you won’t like it.”

“Fuck you jackass, let me out and I’ll put you back in the hospital.”

Laughing, Jack shoves the .25 into Chuck’s ear, and pulls the trigger, “Not this time fucker.”

Reaching into the Camaro Jack kills the headlights, turns the wheel more towards the ravine, and puts it in drive. The car rolls off the edge of the dirt road, and down into a copse of trees. Grimacing, Jack picks up his shell casing, “See ya in hell dip shit.”

Back in the Nova Jack runs it hard down the mountain, hits the 10 East, and heads to Pomona, where he trades the suitcase with Velasquez for an identical one.

He heads back to the shop on autopilot with his thoughts going a million miles an hour, “Holy fuck, I did it, I got rid of that asshole! The cops are going to find me, and I’m going to prison.”

“Nobody saw it, I took care of my brass, they won’t pin it on me.”

Rolling up to the shop, he sees Herb waiting, “I had an easy run, I need to go rest though.”

Herb takes the case, and hands Jack his payment, “Let me know when you need more nose candy, get some rest kid.”

Jack nods, “You know it, have a great night.”

With the Nova parked, Jack drops the case down a storm drain before he retrieves his bike, and rides back to the barn, “One less thing to worry about. The gun needs to go though.”